Walking Alone
by doctorrobinson
Summary: Moritz was the only one she opened up to.


A/N: Moritz and Ilse may be a little out of character, I apologize. This is my first time writing for these characters.

It was that moment of the day where it is not yet sunset but not yet afternoon. The sky turns a lazy mix of tangerine and dark blue, but you can still see all of the leaves on the trees and your hand in front of your face. The air is not yet cold, but it's not wise to leave home without a jacket.

This was Moritz's favourite time. Everyone had either gone home already or was in the process of leaving. He was free to wander about the forest, dip his toes in the river, to do whatever he pleased. It was an occasional break from all of the chaos that churned around in his mind. There was no noise, no people, no _anything. _Melchior had quizzically inquired what he did with his free time besides schoolwork and church, but Moritz had quickly dodged the question with the topic of what Melchior thought of a recent sermon, and that certainly seemed to distract him.

Yes, Moritz told no one of his time alone. No one except for Ilse.

It had been an accident, really. It was one of the first times he had wandered off alone, and she had just suddenly appeared next to him by the river. Upon interrogation, he had confessed that this was an easier way of coping with his problems rather than something drastic. She said nothing, just stared at him sadly with her lovely eyes. They sat in silence, neither speaking, just watching the sun set over the tree tops.

When they would speak, it was like they were children again. She would sing sometimes, and he would listen with a smile. Other times she would tackle him and they would roll around and laugh and Moritz would always feel like he should lean in and kiss her, but of course that would never happen. He would then remember that Ilse was a girl, and that girls were terrifying.

And sometimes she was! For example, whenever she spoke of her experience with men, Moritz would feel strange, almost angry. He didn't know why, but hearing Ilse praising other males made him feel more self conscious about his own abilities.

"I can't tell you how alive I felt, Moritz." She said, dangling her feet in the waves of the river. "It's one of those life-changing experiences."

"That's what you said the last time." Moritz grumbled, sitting cross legged. His shoes and stockings were very firmly on.

Ilse looked up abruptly and pulled her feet out of the water, scooting closer. "Are you _jealous_?"

Moritz looked at her, _really _looked at her. There was a lot to be jealous about. Ilse was certainly beautiful. She had delicate features with a mane of dark hair and bright eyes. She wasn't only beautiful; she was wise, and witty, and fun to be around. It was easy to see why she was desirable.

"I'm not jealous of anything." Moritz stated, avoiding Ilse's eye. He could tell he wasn't very convincing.

"Moritz, you have nothing to worry about." She said warmly, tilting his chin up. "I'm not going anywhere."

He blushed at her touch, and she laughed a twinkly laugh. Ilse gave him a pat on the head and went back into the woods, back to her home. Moritz stayed there a little longer, contemplating what the hell Ilse meant to him and likewise.

There was only few other times that stood out to him the most. He and Ilse were walking along the path that went through the woods when Ilse suddenly spoke.

"Moritz, do you ever think about killing yourself?"

His mind went blank for a moment. He recalled stuttering out a few syllables while Ilse watched.

"I mean, not _just _you, in general." She clarified, continuing to study him closely. He managed to shake his head.

"I can't say I do." He finally said. Ilse sighed. "Why, do _you _think about it?"

They stopped walking. Ilse scratched at her arm and looked behind Moritz's shoulder before speaking again.

"Sometimes," She paused, meeting Moritz's eye. "Things happen."

It was growing steadily dark.

"What kind of things?" Moritz asked, fearful of the answer that he already knew. These fears were confirmed when he reached over and at random, rolled up the sleeve of her black lacy dress. She struggled, but before she could straighten the cloth, he saw the brutal slishslash of unhealed cuts and black bruises.

"Ilse, where did all of these come from?"

She didn't answer. Moritz took hold of her arm gently, registering how bad they were, and asked again, his actions not matching his tone.

"Ilse, where did these come from?"

She tried to pull away but Moritz held on, two hands on both of her shoulders. "Ilse!"

"Why do you care?" Ilse spat.

Moritz couldn't believe his ears. "I-You're hurt, you need help-"

Ilse pulled away more forcefully this time, succeeding. "Things like this don't matter nowadays, Moritz. It's time we all grew up."

His eyes were glassy at the words. "Ilse, I don't want-"

She cut him off again, cupping his face. Both of their eyes were shining. "Please don't tell anyone."

"Ilse-"

"_Please._" She pleaded. Moritz opened his mouth to say something, but found he had nothing to say, nothing he could do to comfort her. His eyes darted down to the gashes that were still uncovered, and he nodded his head yes before he realized what he had done. He made a move to hold her, but she pulled away and left the clearing.

It wasn't until he had overheard the girls talking that he knew about Ilse's father. The cuts were not from him.

"She never spoke of him badly." Wendla murmured.

"She never spoke of him at all, really." Anna said softly. Martha had been curiously quiet during this conversation.

"I remember that she came to school with a bruised eye once." Thea whispered. "I thought nothing of it."

"Nor I." The other girls echoed sadly.

Moritz's time to himself grew shorter and shorter with each visit to Ilse. They spent the next few times smiling together, trying to forget the marks on her arm. It was becoming colder out, leaving the river too icy to swim in and the streets too busy to wander. This left Moritz to shroud himself in layers whenever he wanted to go out. Ilse had no coat or stockings, so he always lent her his jacket to cover her skin from the cutting wind. They were reduced to walking in the woods. It was around this time that the sun set far too soon and Ilse grew sad with each goodbye they exchanged.

"Ilse," Moritz said softly. They had been wandering the same path for the past few days. Ilse's cheeks were flushed and her hair was messier than ever. She looked more beautiful than he had ever seen her. Her name was lovely on his lips.

"I don't like living at the colony." Ilse muttered. "I feel like such a child."

"What do you mean?" He asked. "All of your stories with drinking and modelling. "

Ilse gave a small laugh. "It's not as good as it sounds."

She spun Moritz around so they were face to face. "Do you remember when you saw my bruises? When I got angry?"

Moritz nodded. "I haven't been able to forget it."

"Some of those bruises were from my father," She said. "And some of them weren't."

He paused. "What are you-"

He was stopped again by Ilse taking his hands and moving them to the buttons on her dress. He looked at her and she looked at him before nodding. Moritz had no idea what this was leading to, but he unhooked each button nervously until they were all open. Ilse opened her dress to reveal pale skin spattered with bruises. They continued down past her stomach, which is where the buttons stopped. They covered her protruding collarbone, her shoulders, her _breasts_-Moritz gulped.

"These...were not from my father." She confirmed. He gaped and she made no movement to look away or cover her chest.

"My God..." He said. Moritz hesitantly reached out his hand and skimmed the marks, watching Ilse for signs of pain.

"What did they do?" He asked. Her breasts were still uncovered, and Moritz was beginning to feel like he was in one of his dreams again.

"They wanted me to dress up, you know that. And sometimes they wanted to paint me naked. They wanted to _touch _me." She continued. "Whenever I refused...I always tried to leave..." Ilse gestured to the bruises. "There's more."

Moritz froze. "Who did this to you?"

Ilse had never seen Moritz stare at her as intently as he was doing now. "Albert Biermann, Erich Diederich, Ferdinand Kohler-"

"Herr Biermann used to work with my father!" Moritz yelled, shocked. He whirled around and started to run deeper into the woods.

"What are you doing?" Ilse cried, remembering that she was still bare breasted and crossing her arms over her chest. She ran after him, but his legs were considerably longer and he was fuelled with adrenaline from hearing the names of her tormentors. "MORITZ!"

He turned around swiftly. "I...I need to find him and do something! I don't know! He can't just-"

"Moritz, shut up!" Ilse shouted. "You don't know what you're saying! Just please-"

"Why don't you stand up for yourself, Ilse? Why do you let this happen?" He protested. He didn't understand why he was this upset.

Ilse's mouth fell open in disbelief. "Wha-You think I didn't try and do anything? Moritz Stiefel, how can you say that?"

"If you _let them _do those things to you-"

This was the turning point in their relationship.

"You're a fool if that's what you think I let happen." She spat. "Do you really think that I just lay there and let them do whatever they wanted to me? Do you think I didn't fight back? _That's how I got the bruises_."

Moritz didn't respond, merely watched the tears gathering in Ilse's eyes. He regretted speaking in the first place.

"Do you think I _liked _being TOUCHED like that? To have my first kiss be with my _father_? All I've ever wanted was to be loved, Moritz. Not for my body, or for my looks, but for _me._" She stopped to clap her hand over her mouth, stifling a sob. He reached out for her shoulder and she didn't resist.

"Ilse, I understand." He tried to console, looking at her face which was crumpling with emotion.

"You don't understand." She said bitterly. "Sometimes I think that I hate myself, Moritz. I'm just a teenager, how can I feel like this?"

"Ilse," He said again, taking his face in his hands. "_I understand._"

She gave in, put an end to her anger towards Moritz and let him hold her. She clutched at the lapel of his jacket, crying into his chest. He comforted her as best he could, confused at the sudden change of emotions.

When he felt her breathing slow, he took her shoulders and lightly pulled her so she was facing him. While her face was red and tearstained, her eyes were shiny with warmth and she was still so beautiful and she was looking up at him with that gaze and he was leaning down and their lips were suddenly meeting in a soft kiss and he knew she could feel him smiling and his hands were touching his face and she was letting go.

"Moritz..." She whispered, tears running free again for reasons he didn't know. She left one final time.

Moritz walked alone from that point on. Sometimes he thought he saw her through the trees, but he didn't have the courage to call her name and she didn't have the courage to let herself love him. Not yet.


End file.
